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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27123217">The Antidote</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShoulderTallAbyss/pseuds/ShoulderTallAbyss'>ShoulderTallAbyss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death Eater Harry Potter, Depression, Dubious Consent, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, M/M, One Shot, Sad with a Happy Ending, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Villain is the Savior, Voldemort's World</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:34:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,825</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27123217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShoulderTallAbyss/pseuds/ShoulderTallAbyss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A young man is tipping over a ledge, and it will be a far more permanent fall than that from grace. A villain is developing a savior complex once held by the champion of the Light, but doesn't shed his dominant personality to show it.<br/>One has ruthless power, the other wants to be shredded apart.<br/>A sad, smutty one shot.<br/>Monster, lead him home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Antidote</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I sweat so much throughout writing this. It was born from a fight, and from life as it happens to us all.<br/>Decided to give you all what you want with my other slow-burn story, but in the only way I know how:  sad story, happy ending.<br/>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It didn’t feel like there was any other option.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Sadness, like suffering, came in waves, and when it crashed down, it was a constant that felt like there had never been any other feeling. No emotion could fill the space sadness held. It was an emotion to be weathered, and so often, there was no comprehension enough to yield understanding. A mind in turmoil makes poor decisions. Maybe that explained it, but explanations didn’t remedy anything. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Such was life, but it would be a life soon ended, if no intervention came.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The wind whispered through the railing of the Astronomy Tower, the stars sprinkled the sky, and puffs of condensation were coasting over the pinpricks of light, creating the twinkling effect that felt so peaceful in paintings and pictures, so often in place and in character when it came to the romanticism of evening.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Yet on this night those lights were dismal, unseen in their expressionism.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The lights may shine, but they didn’t reach the young man sat atop the tower, the same tendrils of soft air flickering against his exposed arms; he was clearly underdressed for the temperature. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Tonight was crisp and chilled, and his ears hurt from the inside with exposure to the air. It was nothing like the common room’s warmth he had left. It was nothing like the coldness and claustrophobic pressure that spread through his chest, until there had been no room for air except in short bursts.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry Potter sat, his legs cast over the edge of the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, his arms braced through the rungs of the railing, and watched his tears drip down into the darkness. He felt them as they skated down his cheeks to collect at his chin. When gravity became too much, the coalesced tears fell as one saturated droplet.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>For a moment, the thick droplet swept through the air, it cut through the gentle breeze with a resilient force, and then was swallowed down into the dark oblivion below his dangling feet. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>That gentle breeze ruffled Harry’s fringe, and it felt almost like a comforting hand, but there was no comfort to be had here. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Sat in the same place that Albus Dumbledore had been murdered three years prior, he watched his tears fall down the same trajectory. It was eerie to think that there had ever been such activity, such an important event, here. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Now it was just a bland, wooden platform, surrounded by iron rails. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Despite the morbid event that had happened, despite the peril that still could be felt in the air for those who knew what had occurred in this place, the space was surely still used for Astronomy lessons and on nights when excited teenagers itched to get away from the castle’s other occupants. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Tonight, the tower was a set scene for being unbothered. It was just a desolate and quiet place to get away.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>An occasional sob escaped into the air—a quiet heave into the ever silent, lonely night. It was surely depressing to witness, and even in the back of his own mind, it appeared to be pathetic.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>To be so lonely and hopeless in this pointless world, with no poignant guidance outside of those who betrayed his trust. Harry felt so lost. Where was Dumbledore, or Snape, or Ron, or Hermione? He needed them.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He needed them so much...but they were gone.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Here it came again, the suffering. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He felt sorrow for his own self and situation. Harry didn’t know if that was problematic or selfish, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He had been subjected to the worst of the worst treatment over the past year—being forced to join the Death Eaters had ostracized him from anyone he had previously been close to in the Wizarding World. The Death Eaters treated him worse than anything the papers could say. He was scrap meat, a toy for torture, and he was expected to inflict the same.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Tonight was the last straw. In the glow of the Muggle village in flames, in the screams of agony that rang through the air and trembled in his ears, Harry realized that this was a pain that he couldn’t endure anymore; he couldn’t continue to be present for such heinous activities, no matter what he was forced to pretend to be. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There had been a distraction in the ranks when a Muggle family had tried to escape, and his handler had turned to assist with the Killing Curse—his stomach flipped at the remembrance of it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry had Apparated away while the others continued to murder the rest of the village. He went to Hogsmeade; he couldn’t think of another place. He thought to speak with Aberforth, but when he was about to knock on the Hog’s Head’s door, Harry had the inkling that he wouldn’t be welcomed. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>After that, he had strode through the cold darkness to the castle, and ditched his cloak along the way—it was the uniform of the Death Eaters, and he had no intention of going back. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Whether by chance or carelessness, the front door of the castle had been unlocked and opened to let the evening air in. Without much of glance toward the darkened Great Hall, nor to the suits of armor that lined the walls, he had numbly plodded up the stairs, on a route he had taken many times. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The past year had taught Harry much about the limits, or lack thereof, of magic, and he had forced his way past the Fat Lady’s protective enchantments without much effort. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Gryffindor common room was silent. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Maybe it had been the press of the warm, familiar scents and the presence of the stuffed armchairs that he used to sit in with his first and best friends that had sent him over the edge. Maybe it was the dying flames that made him recall Sirius, and then shudder and remember the current night. Maybe it was just being in a place that held such bittersweet memories, such feelings of remembrance and home that he couldn’t return to, that he capitulated to the stress of it all. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Ultimately, it didn’t matter what had been the tipping point, or what thought had been the trigger for such unleashed emotion. There was something in the nostalgia that had been too much, and he couldn’t stem his sadness, his grief—it was like poison that ran through him. It was a poison for which there seemed to be no antidote, his whole life long. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was there, in the eerie quiet, that he had started to cry. It was there that he began to acknowledge the grief that had threatened time and again to sweep him away. He stood just past the common room entryway, and sobbed quietly into the warm air, thick with the memory of things he no longer had.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry had left, then. He slipped through the open portrait hole, and ignored the Fat Lady still frozen in her paint—her canvas a still-form artwork, now. His tears dripped, as his legs carried him far across the castle. The route had been almost mindless in the quick stride he kept, until he had traveled up into the place he had least wanted to revisit.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This was where it had all happened—the flash of green, the great fall.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was enough to turn anyone’s stomach with grief.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>That was what it felt like—a sickness, a physical ailment that Harry had to now dig himself out of...and for what? </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>All that waited for him back with the Death Eaters was to be punished. He would only be forced to witness and do more terrible things.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>No.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry had had enough. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was many long moments before he realized a solution was in his grasp, should he be brave or cowardly enough to put it into action. After that moment of clarity, he realized it was the only way...and he did not believe he would get another choice or chance. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry had just wanted to escape the horrors, the death, the bright fires and desperate screams. His life had become too much, so he pled with himself to make it stop.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>So he had leaned over that edge, swung a leg up and over the highest rail, and stood on the thin tower ledge. His hands gripped onto the rails behind him, and he could barely breathe through the pain that skewered his heart, and the adrenaline which made his whole body tingle with anticipation. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>All he could think, as he looked out over the Black Lake in the distance, true to its name in the nighttime, was that it was a long way down. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He squeezed his eyes shut, and swallowed. Then he began to lean out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His heart thudded and his hands became sweaty as he leaned farther, and ever more gradually over the earth far below. Eventually, he knew, his grip or balance would fail him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span><em><span>This was how he fell</span></em>, Harry thought. <em><span>Just let go, and you won’t have to be alone anymore. </span></em></span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>More tears fell, impossibly fast, now. The droplets were like heavy rain, as if his body wanted to drain him of all his tears before he died.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He leaned out and out, and his fingers twitched in their white-knuckled grip on the metal behind him. The breeze blew stronger suddenly, and Harry’s shirt twitched along his abdomen as it seemed to swirl around him, and he couldn’t tell if the wind was pushing him off or pushing him back. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He suddenly felt very dizzy, and his eyes could not remain closed. His right foot shifted and he looked down, and involuntarily swallowed, because it really was a thin ledge, and he really was up this high.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This fall would kill him. That was rather the point.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The reality of that thought settled in, and he drew in a shaky breath; the cold air hurt his throat, and his ears stung with the cold that continued to numb him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His eyes flitted over the shingles of the castle turrets, the sparse lights of students still awake at this ungodly hour, unaware of the horrors that had happened on the other side of the country this evening, or of the tragedy in the making just above them—were he to just let go. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His gaze flicked to the twinkling stars, the wisps of clouds, the Forbidden Forest off to the left, its treetops spiky and dark. It was as if, of their own accord, his eyes had decided to take everything in in their last moments. It was as though his body fought his mind, and indicated that nineteen years of experience in this world had not been enough.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He had nearly blacked out then; the cold wind stung his skin, as his brain had silently screamed to stop.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry pressed back against the railing. The metal bars chilled his back through his t-shirt.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This would not make things better. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He squeezed his eyes shut, and breathed out. He couldn’t do it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Shakily, he climbed back over the rails he stared out at the sky and wept. He didn’t know what else to do.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>So, he had collapsed to his current position and the grief poured out of his mouth in dry, anguished sobs that wracked his body with intense disappointment—not just with his actions, but with the world. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Deep down, he knew that there was no fix for this, for any of it. Yet, somehow he would have to struggle on, and that would be the hardest challenge of his life.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>God, he didn’t think he could do it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There were several minutes when Harry believed that someone might come up the stairs, come across him crying and have some reaction—be it awkward fumbling to go back down the winding staircase, laughter at his pathetic depressive episode that was years in the making, or an attempt to offer comfort.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry didn’t know which would make him feel like a real person again, or shake him from this numbness. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Everything felt so fake. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Here he was, paying for his transgression in spades of what it had cost the Dark Lord to track him down over the years. Lord Voldemort, Harry supposed, thought him to be docile, to want to serve him after a year of being branded. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He glanced down at the black tattoo on his left forearm, and his eyes drew to the goosebumps that were prickling along his skin in the numbing air.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The truth was, Harry had grown very quiet over a year. Lost were all of his expressions; no smiles, no angry outbursts, his eyes looked around but didn’t show fear or surprise—they felt empty. He could only imagine what it looked like to everyone else. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His handler had only asked once, three months ago, what was wrong with him. It wasn’t a check out of sympathy; Harry had been frozen over a Muggle mother, and couldn’t fire the curse to take her light. His wand had remained pointed at her, but he had been frozen. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>She had looked so confused, and frightened. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Her face had mirrored how he had felt, deep down, and he had felt jealous, in a way. Like a cardboard cutout, he was taken here and there, but it wasn’t him. Maybe it would never be him again, and he would remain this shell with his face, but without the recognition.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His handler had shunted him out of the way and done it himself, and Harry had faced the threat of torture, of course, but they had never gotten around to it that night, because—</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s mind felt fuzzy, like the metaphorical poison was taking hold, and maybe he would succumb more peacefully than whooshing through the air and crashing to the dark grass of the lawn below.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The tears had stopped, he realized. Maybe there were finally no more to give. His cheeks felt tight where the tear tracks had dried. His chest still felt full of pressure, and his lips felt chapped, and when he inhaled, his body shuddered.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He was getting a headache, as he came down from hysteria.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>All of his expression had gone away with Ron and Hermione.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>They were gone, and everything went along with them. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry felt despicable...and apologetic. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>How could it be that that man had wormed his way into his mind and taken hold so firmly? Voldmort had changed the way that Harry saw the world, to the point that Harry had to lie to himself to make it through any day. He had to tell himself that it didn’t matter what happened to the world, because he was powerless to go against the Dark Lord. He was watched all the time, forced into situations and raids all the time—and when did he become so dispassionate that he couldn’t pitch himself off of the Astronomy Tower in a fit of self-sacrifice or independence? </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His emotions stirred a bit, beneath the cloudy surface of suppression. He was so tired of not being able to be himself.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>In the next moment, though, the simmering thoughts had been silenced. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It had just felt too real to do it when everything seemed to tell him no at the last second. It had felt too...final.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry threw his forehead onto the arms that rested on the railing, and closed his eyes against the growing headache he had acquired. His feet still dangled over the abyss, but he was securely on the other side of danger.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He didn’t want to die, but he wanted his life to be so much more different than it currently was. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>When he heard the creak on the stairs, he didn’t even bother to wipe his eyes, though he raised his head up from his arms, and stared out at the dark waters of the distant lake. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A hand grazed the crown of his head, and Harry froze. It felt like the solid thickness in his chest had grown colder than the night air.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The breeze had fallen quite still in the Dark Lord’s near-silent approach. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort no doubt felt the rigid tenseness of Harry demeanor, and analyzed everything about the younger man that uninvited his touch.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry repressed the shudder that ripped through him as he clearly imagined the long, white fingers that stroked through his hair.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He had worried that the Dark Lord would come find him, but he hadn’t expected him to trace his whereabouts so quickly. Then again, Voldemort always knew when something had become too serious for his Horcrux to handle. Always.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry frequently wondered if Voldemort looked through his mind as he slept and pulled apart his memories. If he did, then he would see that Harry relived those nights when he first realized that he was a Horcrux, and the anguish over that understanding. The Dark Lord would know that Harry dreamed of being with his friends again, despite it being an impossibility. If he had delved into his mind, he would know that Harry often recounted the night of his Branding, because it was the first night that Voldemort had joined with his soul.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>That had been the most confusing night of Harry’s life.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort had taken him away from the blood-spattered floors of the Initiation Room, and in the following hours, Harry had lost the first of his expression. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It had been stripped away, inch by methodical inch, until his life no longer felt his own. The first hour had passed, with protestations and dramatics from Harry—his fluttering heart, in fear and anticipation, had driven him to be so nervous and flustered. By the end of those sixty minutes, however, Harry had felt like he had entered into a new lifetime. He had been reminded that his loyalty now belonged to a new cause, and, most importantly, a new Master. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Those long fingers had drawn along every dip, scar, crevice, and mark on his skin, and he had burned to feel more. Harry was drawn slowly into a limpness—his fear of danger in the Dark Lord’s presence was erased. The physical discomfort had passed, as had his protestations. Harry had just fallen silent, but for the slight whimpers to get relief, in some form. He had felt so close to the man who used all of his power above him, to drive him into submission—and what had been hatred before, turned to awe.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He didn’t know if it was the Horcrux or not, but when the Dark Lord was inside of him, he felt like the world was tilting just for the man, as though Voldemort’s will could move the universe.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord’s touch was a flamethrower through the biting cold of Harry’s life, and he was like a moth to a flame, after that. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He would see the Dark Lord in hallways, in meetings, and though Harry gave no outward indication and kept his eyes level, he knew that Voldemort could feel his thoughts. If the attention of that slitted red gaze ever turned to meet Harry’s eyes, his stomach would flip, and his brain would be abuzz, but the rest of his face would remain stoic. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was like a secret between them, and they had so many.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Only in the dark hours was Harry allowed to come to him, to strip down until he was nothing but flushed skin, and parted lips, and vivid green eyes full of <em><span>want.</span></em></span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Months passed in that way, and nothing was alright unless their magic was cloistered together in the same room. Harry had been addicted to the fire of Voldemort’s powerful, protective touch—even when their interactions turned violent. Those were the only times Harry allowed a crack in his emotional wall—to beg for it. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Then came the morning, seven months into the reassignment of the Dark Lord’s role in his life.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort was already up and in motion, but Harry had still lay in bed, just watchful of the Dark wizard’s movements. An owl had come, a scroll clasped in its large talons. Harry would usually ignore any documents—still being a subordinate, he supposed it was none of his business—but Voldemort had smirked. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>That expression had caught Harry between his want to mirror his Master’s obvious satisfaction over something, but it also put him automatically on the defensive. It had jerked him back to a time before his capture and assignment in the Dark’s ranks—a forced commitment to a cause he could never—in good, clear faith—endorse.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord never showed emotion. He had but one outward persona as an aggressive ruler who gave orders, and penetrated minds with a look. His magic was heady, and saturated, and practically sucked the air from a room. For those first months, in the mansion’s quiet, Voldemort took Harry apart. With silent touches, and fiercely burning eyes, and quiet commands interspersed with heavy breathing, he controlled every situation. Harry had no choice but to fall to his whims.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Over time, Harry knew he had given him everything—body, mind, and soul...</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Which was why anything emotional from the Dark Lord was a supreme indicator that something in the world had gone very, very wrong.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort was still cruel, and he did not hide the contents of the memo from Harry—he had simply watched as the information dawned on the face of his Horcrux like a dark cloud.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Ron and Hermione, the Undesirables who had evaded capture for so long, were gone. It was done.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry had left the room, and never went back. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He stopped his interactions with the Dark Lord completely. He stared at the table during meetings, took his punishment for his disrespect, focused on making himself scarce during raids he was forced to attend. He neither got in the way of others or participated. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He was hollow, a shade of his former self.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>When he was assigned a handler for help in honing his battle stamina—or whatever the excuse had been—Harry saw it for what it was. Apparently he needed a watchdog for his performance, a tab keeper of his movements. Harry had been dragged to every single raid the Death Eaters had been on after that, including the one tonight. Tonight had been the final thread that snapped Harry’s strained relationship with his current life. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>So, that’s why, for every scenario Harry had thought where someone would come up the Astronomy Tower stairs and approach him where he sat, tangled up in his grip on the railings, he had not accounted for Lord Voldemort.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Certainly, those fingers had felt every inch of him before, and yet, he did not account for what he would feel if they were physically reunited once more, even through just a touch. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>They didn’t speak, not for a long time. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry knew that Voldemort thought he was a nuisance, that he was unfit to be around a politician and Dark Lord, especially given their previous, tumultuous history—and yet, here he was. Undoubtedly because he sensed that Harry needed him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry felt mocked, and silly, and foolish because he had so many feelings. He was always a mess, and insecure, and wanting to be better.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was annoying, how Voldemort was. His moods were ephemeral. His temper, explosive.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Yet Harry couldn’t stop himself from coming back to him, to be sealed in those moments where nothing on earth mattered except being beneath the Dark Lord.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This was why Harry had needed to end things on his terms—because this helpless feeling, this reliance on something so poisonous, was no good.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It had not been a good plan to run away, but that had never stopped him before.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Feeling calmer, Harry pulled away from the touch, and rested his chin on his forearms. His headache was still present, but it was dull in comparison to the buzz his body felt, to be under the attention of Voldemort. That, or he was suffering hypothermia. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was an empty calm that filled Harry, not solace. It was like the emotions had been obliterated, and he now remained empty.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry hated when Voldemort did that, when he purposefully took over because Harry wouldn’t or couldn’t handle things himself. He had had to do it a lot, in the beginning.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord crouched down behind him, and Harry felt a knee on either side of his back.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He wasn’t going to—?</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There was a rustling of fabric as they got comfortable, and the legs of Lord Voldemort tucked around Harry’s body.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A disillusionment charm cascaded over them, and Harry resisted rolling his eyes. Of course Lord Voldemort couldn’t be seen spooned around Harry Potter, the old Chosen One—though he hadn’t donned that title for some time—providing comfort with his presence.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was afraid to move, to say anything. He still felt numb, until he saw those skeletal hands emerge on either side of him, and take hold of his forearms, one in each hand, and unstick the skin from the railing. Voldemort pulled Harry’s arms so they were crossed over chest, and Harry finally leaned back into the body behind him. Long, strong arms encircled Harry, and drew him closer.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort’s chest was a solid wall, and as Harry rested against it, he felt all the more unnerved. The black robe that the Dark Lord wore swept around him, and it must have been charmed against the chilled air, because Harry felt warmth through the layers of his physical numbness. It thrilled against his bare arms and through his thin shirt. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>They stared out at the sloped mountains and the Black Lake, now barely visible in the night. A shelter of cloud cover had drawn in while Harry had broken down.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He was cradled like that for a while, and Harry began to shiver the longer he was sheltered from the night air by the body that surrounded him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You are cold.” Harry startled as the rasping tenor spoke next to his ear. When he recovered, he opened his mouth to respond, but his teeth involuntarily chattered. A small huff of a laugh tickled the back of his neck.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was about to try to speak again, but he didn’t get the chance to.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“What were your intentions here tonight, Harry?” whispered the Dark Lord, with a patience Harry knew was only surface-deep. Harry swallowed, and wet his lips.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was an innocent question posed, but Voldemort had to know already what Harry had almost done. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He resisted melting into the slight nuzzle on the back of his neck, and he had to shut his eyes as he felt those thin lips coast along the nape of his neck. It was all intentional; every action was a deliberately calculated movement to draw him in, closer. Harry was powerless to resist. He pulled his lower lip in between his teeth as he shut his eyes against the intense onslaught to his senses after months without. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The interaction of two souls meeting after such a long while elicited a lot of buried emotions that Harry had withheld. But faced away from the Dark wizard behind him, he allowed himself the moment of weakness.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The breath behind the shell of his ear was what did him in.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry couldn’t help but lean back into the hardness that pressed against his lower back, which had been growing all the while. Voldemort held him close to his chest, and Harry had no ability to use his arms as they were still being held, folded across his own chest.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry wrestled against him, as the numbness of his body dissipated. His body became a touch warmer as the strong, spindly hands rubbed along his arms, and created friction where they dragged against his skin. Harry groaned out his approval, and scooted further into the nook between Voldemort’s legs. His blood rushed faster, and Harry had to look, he had to see those eyes that would take him apart again. He needed a purpose. He needed to know that he was going to be okay, if he continued to live. He couldn’t take the violence of what he had been forced to undertake with the other Death Eaters, but he needed...something familiar to remind him who he was.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry tried to turn in the other man’s powerful grip as he bit and licked around Harry’s neck.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Goosebumps erupted down his arms, but it wasn’t for the cold. The air was now quite warm as well.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Eventually Voldemort relented and allowed Harry to turn in the space between his legs.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Those slitted eyes were so crimson they practically glowed in the lightless evening. Harry took his time to stare up into them, and he couldn’t help but be in awe. His mind was obliterated. The past didn’t matter, somehow. Harry had no idea how anything would work out, but in that moment he practically saw his own reflection within the depths of the vertical blackness.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was Voldemort who broke the silence.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You have avoided your responsibilities these past months, Harry,” he sternly stated. “I had hoped that you would have wanted to avoid my wrath, at the very least by staying where I send you.” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>His pallid face remained unchanged, but his eyes burned like the village fires. A silence fell between them, but Harry’s heart had begun to race, as if it had slowed in the preparation of death and was coming to life in the presence of danger once more.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You ran from your obligations, to Hogwarts,” Voldemort continued lowly. “Why?” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry couldn’t say anything to that. If he admitted what the Dark Lord surely already knew, then it would mean certain torture for his transgressions. Harry was not to endanger the Horcrux, which had already strengthened so much in their times of intimate proximity together.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Harry,” warned Voldemort. Harry swallowed, but his mouth seemed to be glued shut. He couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t anger the Dark Lord further.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He didn’t know how much more suffering he could take, especially if it was at the hands of Voldemort, who had become his Master, his commander...his soulmate, prior enemy with benefits.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was too complicated, and his head buzzed, and he felt warm, but also still so cold. Moreover, he worried that he may cry in front of Lord Voldemort, and he absolutely did not want that to happen.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>So Harry kissed him. It was awkward, and it had never happened previously—the one inch of him Voldemort hadn’t shown interest in—and he did it impulsively, because his inhibitions were shot.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was a press of Harry’s slightly wet, chapped lips to the thin, dry ones above him. He closed his eyes, because he couldn’t look at those slitted eyes any longer, not when they were going to take him apart, until he was shredded. Just for a moment, Harry wanted to pretend that Voldemort could fix him and, despite being the one who started all of his grief, to be the one to take some responsibility for it and try to keep him together. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He tried to communicate that through the kiss, but it was just a chaste press of their lips together. Afraid to open his eyes again, Harry hoped that Voldemort had been reading his mind. He couldn’t say any of his thoughts out loud, he just couldn’t. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The hands that held him retreated, and the Dark Lord completely withdrew from his body. The air was still warm, but Harry felt bereft where he now sat alone on the tower ledge.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry cracked his eyes open and slowly drew his eyes up the tall, black-cloaked body until he stared up at Voldemort’s flat, snakelike face. The red eyes studied him for a long moment.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Get up, Potter,” he quietly ordered.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Immediately, but slowly, Harry pulled his legs out from under the railing, and dragged himself up to stand before his Lord.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort continued to study his face from about a foot away. When he closed the distance, he placed a finger under Harry’s jaw, lifting his chin.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>Undress for me,</span></em>” he hissed in Parseltongue, and Harry shivered as he complied, pulling the hem of his t-shirt ungracefully over his head. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He straightened his glasses and smoothed down the fringe of his hair out of habit. Voldemort’s eyes followed his movements, and Harry couldn’t help but swallow in nervous anticipation. He held the t-shift limply by his side and forced his mind to quiet any self-conscious thoughts. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort stepped forward again, and kept eye contact with Harry which was so intense he felt as though he were being sucked into the Dark Lord’s gaze. The t-shirt was gently pulled from his hand, and Harry released a breath he hadn’t realized he held.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He dropped his eyes to Voldemort’s chest and closed them; he could barely take the mixed arousal and grief that competed in vicious waves.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>Look at me, Harry,</span></em>” and that command did it. Harry gasped, and the simultaneous emotion was so strong that he let out a sob at the same time. It was a pathetic sound; it was weakness he would be punished for. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>You are not weak, Harry,</span></em>” the voice above him murmured. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s eyes flew open at that statement, confused.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>You are the vessel for my soul. I would not bother training you to be strong if you were a hopeless wreck.</span></em>”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry didn’t look at Voldemort directly, but stared at his shoulder as he wordlessly began to take off his pants. The Dark Lord said nothing, and made no effort to stall him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry could feel the rapt attention fixed on him like a spotlight. His ears and face grew warm, but his eardrum throbbed from being subjected to the cold for so long, and it grounded him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Clothes now in a pile, standing naked before Lord Voldemort, Harry awaited his fate.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“For months,” began the Dark wizard, seemingly ignoring the nakedness of the wizard before him, “I had hoped you would return to me, so that we could finish what was started.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry began to feel self-conscious now, with his erection jutted painfully out in front of him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Even so, he had inferred that their intimacy had been to keep the Dark Lord’s Horcrux stronger, but Harry couldn’t help but allow his underlying feelings get the better of him throughout the process.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He thought he mattered just a little bit more than that.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort swept forward, so swiftly that Harry took an involuntary step back. He swallowed and stared into those eyes that intimidated. The Dark Lord’s lip curled as he took both of Harry’s wrists in a one-handed, painful hold down in front of him. The other hand yanked Harry’s head back, forcing him to arch backward under the furious stare.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>You matter,</span></em>” Voldemort spat. He seemed to collect himself, after a long moment of looking between Harry’s wide eyes. “More than you know,” he murmured.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort released his grip on Harry’s hair and Harry involuntarily sucked a breath in, suddenly feeling faint. With a parting squeeze that made his bones grind together, he let go of Harry’s wrists, and began circling him like prey.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s head was more abuzz than it had been, and he acutely felt the movements of Voldemort as he strode around him in a tight circle.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A cool hand grasped his shoulder, and Harry’s knees buckled, his erection bobbed in front of him, harder than ever, painfully so.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Do you feel that, Harry?” asked Voldemort in his ear, and Harry repressed a shudder, already breathing heavily. “The bond attracts us after our interruption in physical closeness.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed and Harry groaned out, his breath coming in huffs.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>I anticipate the effects to be nearly overwhelming to you, my Horcrux,</span></em>” whispered Voldemort in that sibilant, penetrating tone. Harry could have fainted, but somehow managed to withstand the effects of the breath in his ear. Voldemort sounded so smug, but Harry couldn’t care less. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The cool fingers released the pressure on Harry’s shoulder, and passed down his back, the nails scraping along his skin. Harry bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood, and almost swallowed his tongue as he gasped.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I gave you time,” said Voldemort, in a collected tone once more. Harry had a difficult time wrapping his mind around what Voldemort meant. His brain was struggling to keep pace with anything, as all of his blood was currently fueling his very physical needs. “It had to be done, Harry,” Voldemort continued.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s brow furrowed, trying to follow along. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“It had to be done. They were a threat that refused to be neutralized.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>All at once, Harry understood, and the dam that had hidden itself away behind the distraction of the Dark Lord’s presence on the top of the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, where a lifetime before Harry had sought to end himself, broke apart. Harry let out a gasp of anguish that had nothing to do with his desperation or physical need. It was as if, with that tangible reminder of whose fault it was, and Harry’s ties to him, his heart was breaking all over again. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Instead of an empty shell, Harry became a heated, furious wreck. His jaw clenched, and he ignored his nakedness—none of that mattered—as he turned to face the murderer, the madman, who had taken everything from him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He practically saw himself reflected in those passive eyes, in the unapologetic gaze of the psychopathic Dark Lord who had become the tyrannical ruler of the Wizarding World. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was breathing hard for an entirely different reason than before. His scar began to burn as he filled with more hatred and vitriol with each passing second. He hissed as his forearm seemed to singe his skin, reminding him of everything the man before him—who was looking down at Harry as though he was a neutralized threat—had done to him. Everything awful that he had been forced into had been a ploy created and fulfilled by the Dark wizard stood before him—narcissistic, power-hungry, and sadistic as he had always been. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry let out a furious, animalistic sound. It tore from the depths of his soul and it flooded the space, resounded against the wooden beams all around them, and with it, tears flooded down his face, fresh and hot. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He burned with anger, inside and out, and here he was, stripped down and coiled under the man who begged for his attack, because he would easily put Harry in his place as he had countless other times over the last year.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort just shook his head at him, as if amazed by his antics, or disappointed by his outburst.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care at all. He had regained his fire, and even if he only had it for a little while before it was extinguished, he would hold onto it, and use it for all it was worth.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was best to start with the basics.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I <em><span>hate </span></em>you.” The words left his mouth, and the scar and Dark Mark burned on his skin, and his face crinkled in pain, but he held it down. His stomach writhed with hurt. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry shook his head at the blank look on Voldemort’s face, ever expressionless, except when he was mocking Harry for his stupidity—and he was stupid, for ever being distracted from the facts. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The danger was building in the air, and Harry ignored it, though his skin broke out in fresh goosebumps. He heaved a breath.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You’re a monster,” he whispered, and was surprised that his voice failed him. He wanted to scream, he wanted to let Voldemort know just how much his bonded <em><span>soul </span></em>was hurting, not that he would care in the slightest.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry stared at the unvarnished floorboards, and he wasn’t sure when he had looked down. He heaved several shallow breaths and raised his eyes to Voldemort, about to yell—</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord had a smirk on his face.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry wanted to rip Voldemort’s throat out <em><span>with his teeth</span></em>. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>How <em><span>dare </span></em>he stand there and mock him. How dare he come find him, and remind him of <em><span>that </span></em>and then have the <em><span>audacity </span></em>to smirk at him as he had that day. He had almost tricked Harry, too, into feeling again.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort was an arrogant sod, and he could rot in hell, and would, once Harry could get rid of the Horcrux. If he didn’t have his precious immortality anymore, there would be one less problem for the Wizarding World to solve.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Cold apathy tried to take the place of his anger as Harry glanced to the railing behind Voldemort’s back.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Adrenaline flooded in as he quickly made up his mind. He could still do it—just dive for it, butt naked and all. It wouldn’t matter once he hit the ground.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There would be no stopping him once he started to fall.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was a great plan, but Harry had never been as good at hiding his emotions and thoughts from Lord Voldemort.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was grabbed by the throat before he could so much as take a step in the direction of the railing. He was forcibly shoved back a step, and then another, as Voldemort flexed his considerable control over Harry. The scar seared along his forehead, and the Dark Mark felt like a fire was slowly spreading across his arm to his entire body. He let out a pained yell as the intensity built and built with impossible pain.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was pinned to one of the support poles holding the tower up, and as he grunted in pain, he still tried to get free.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort looked calmly down at him, although Harry could tell he was anything but what he projected. The fingers around his neck flexed to hold his throat more tightly.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord tsked. “Harry, I only wanted to have a conversation, to not keep such tension between us.” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He did not allow Harry a rebuttal, though. With a flick of his hand, the Dark Lord’s black cloak disappeared, and finally exposed his thin, but powerful frame. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s own erection had long since wilted, and now he had made Voldemort very angry. He worried for what was next, and how he would get through it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He didn’t have long to consider, because all at once, Voldemort pushed down, and Harry’s back scraped against the wood of the pole behind him, less pleasantly than the nails had before. The hand around his neck pressed him towards the floor, until his knees collided with the hard ridges of the planks below him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>As Harry’s skin hummed with anticipation, he felt like he was going to throw up. His ears were ringing and he closed his eyes tightly, to forget the long, pale legs before him, and what was to come next.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Look up at me,” Voldemort hissed, and it was a softer tone than Harry expected. He shuddered with dread, but after a moment, looked up through his lashes and tear-stained cheeks at the man above him. He swallowed, and felt the hand, which had offered such bruising violence before, smooth down his cheeks. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A cool thumb traced over his cheek for several minutes until his nausea abated and he felt a little more comfortable. They continued to stare at each other—Harry’s head tilted back for his eyes to meet the burning gaze above.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The pain in Harry’s scar and forearm had cooled in the silence, and Harry was aware of his dick lying limply against the inside of his thigh. Voldemort’s thumb continued to gently circle along the line of Harry’s cheekbone, and his crimson stare never broke its contact with Harry’s green one.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I know what has happened, Harry. My soul has told me much about you in your absence over these last months. Our bonding, though intentional, brought me inadvertently closer to you.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s brow furrowed at that, and Voldemort’s jaw flexed as his eyes traced all over his face. The hand left his cheek and threaded through his fringe, gently pulling Harry to sit back on his heels, and bump his head back against the wooden pole.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“The previous transgressions we have made against each other in the name of our causes, which were different for so long, can be rectified through the bonding process I began after your Initiation,” explained Voldemort. Harry swallowed, and stared apathetically up at Voldemort. His words meant nothing to him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He had forced Harry to join his cause. He had had Harry’s best friends killed.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“What do you want from me?” Harry whispered out, tired and hoarse. He hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but his brain was not working properly at the moment.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort ceased the stroking of his hair, and looked into his eyes, and Harry felt like he was seeing Voldemort from a different room, in an unfamiliar house—he felt far, far away.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Your eyes used to be so full of fire,” the Dark Lord stated, like it was an observation worth noting, in case it was news to Harry. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort seemed hesitant for a moment, then added, “What will it take to bring it back?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry softly scoffed and slowly shook his head. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>No, he was done. Voldemort could use him for whatever he wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Nothing,” Harry whispered. That word had cost him a lot. He’d forced it through the pressure in his chest to make it heard over the night air, silent and calm though it had been for some time.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was honest, and raw, and Harry had experience enough to know that those were things that Voldemort couldn’t appreciate. The hand withdrew from his hair.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry dropped his eyes to the floor again, and waited for his punishment or for Voldemort to use him, or whatever was going to happen tonight. Harry had a feeling that whenever the Dark Lord left—and he would have to leave him alone eventually—he would find a way to off himself. If not here, then someplace else, and soon.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Suddenly, Voldemort lowered himself to Harry’s level, and Harry, now holding his knees up to his chest, leaned back as far as the pole behind him would allow.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort seemed very unaware or uncaring of just how naked they were, whereas Harry couldn’t stop his mind from continuously drifting to that fact. He pulled his knees closer to his chest.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Harry, you will not kill yourself,” stated Voldemort. Harry twitched in disbelief, his eyes involuntarily flew to Voldemort’s, who looked calm, and as though he had every right in the world to believe that his word was law.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“That’s a pretty bold statement from someone who isn’t in charge of my decisions,” Harry said, his voice hard. He grimaced in pain as his scar heated up.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort grabbed one of Harry’s arms up in his hand, and extended it out in front of him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>This</span></em> mark, Harry, shows you and everyone else exactly who is in charge of your decisions,” Voldemort hissed venomously. Harry’s eyes glared down hatefully at the Dark Mark, emblazoned black against his skin. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry blinked a few times, and then looked hard at Voldemort, who still held hard onto his arm. He didn’t fight him, he just shrugged.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I assume you were listening to my thoughts, so hear this:  I do not give a fuck,” enunciated Harry. Expectedly, a wave of pain shot through him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>When he recovered, Harry growled out, “You know, that really warms me to you. The frequent intimidation factor really does it for me.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You will learn your place,” snarled Voldemort.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Are you going to make me?” Harry snapped back.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A long pause trickled between them.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“So this is what it takes,” the Dark Lord mused, with a quirk of his thin lips. Harry’s eyes narrowed as Voldemort looked at his eyes.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“What are you—”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You say you do not want to be controlled, but that is exactly what it takes for you to understand what it means to be alive.” Voldemort’s eyes flashed, and Harry saw the hungry look in them. He swallowed.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Hang on—”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Too long I have waited to be reunited with my soul, Potter. The delay ends, tonight.” With that, Voldemort stood, and though Harry followed his quick ascent to standing, he became distracted by the large erection that bobbed in front of his face. Harry glared at the tip of it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Potter, the longer you look at it, the more time you will have to work yourself up again,” came the—oh, god, was it almost teasing?—voice from above him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry made a face, and glared at the dick in front of him, but reached out a hand. It was nothing he hadn’t done before. He said he didn’t care, and he didn’t.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>As soon as their skin connected, Harry gasped out, as Voldemort took a deep intake of breath. While he fisted the Dark Lord’s shaft, velvet and smooth, Harry began to turn red as his own cock filled. He heard a huff from above, in either amusement or satisfaction, as Voldemort looked down at him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Do you need an invitation, Harry? I will be more than willing to oblige,” remarked Voldemort, clearly lust-fueled from the touch of his Horcrux, and the evidence on display of how it affected both of them.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry glared up at Voldemort, with the most baleful expression he could manage, but stopped short at the sight of those blown slitted pupils, wide and hungry as they stared down at Harry on his knees.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked lightly, and then plunged down. He let his tongue slip low in his mouth to run along the underside, and opened his throat. It was a familiar intrusion and he fell into a rhythm. Voldemort did nothing to force him as he stroked along the base, and the slightly wrinkled skin there. He ran his tongue along the underside and sucked the tip, running his tongue along the slit before plunging down again. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The girth became too much for a moment and he backed off, but Voldemort plowed ahead, suddenly taking the reins as Harry choked and tried his best to keep his mouth and throat open. He pressed his head against the pole behind him and felt his mind practically leave his body as Voldemort pressed on. As he vigorously chased a high, it strengthened their bond. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry felt it. It was like flying full force towards the Snitch, his Firebolt between his legs. He didn’t have the broom, and they weren’t flying, but Harry was definitely having an out-of-body experience as Voldemort plunged over and over into his mouth. It was like they were experiencing their pleasures together.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Then Voldemort stilled, his cock still jammed deep in Harry’s throat. Held against the unforgiving wood of the pole behind his head, Harry tried to keep his throat open, but it kept fluctuating and reflexively attempting to close. Voldemort seemed to sense that he was struggling, and pushed impossibly deeper. When Harry glared up at him through the tears that dripped out of his eyes in reaction to the intrusion, the amused glint he saw in the red eyes above him made Harry’s eye twitch. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>In the brief moment of lost focus, he gagged violently. Voldemort pulled out with a scoff, and tapped his length against Harry’s soaked lips as he sucked in breath.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s throat was sore, but it was a good soreness, and his skin felt like it was alight. Waves of heat emanated between them, and droplets of sweat dripped down the line of Harry’s back. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“What were your intentions tonight, Potter?” asked Voldemort, but his voice sounded far away.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry said nothing, just licked his lips, which felt even more chapped now, after they had been rubbed so much with saliva and the soft skin of Voldemort’s cock, the hardened length still only inches from him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Not very talkative tonight?” hummed Voldemort. “You have become more of a man of action—or rather, of inaction.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry wouldn’t rise to the Dark Lord’s bait. Instead, he lowered his head, and stared at the inside of his left forearm. His hands, which had fallen to rest on his thighs, clenched into fists.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort waited a moment, as if willing to give Harry the chance to answer. He apparently had not yet said enough to mock Harry, or to draw him into his weird mind games, or to make him have any reaction at all besides to sit and take what Voldemort had to give.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry continued to stare hard his fists, and studied at the lines on the knuckles of his thumbs.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You see, Harry, I have watched you from a distance, and I have seen you suffer. I did not intervene because you have proven time and time again that the Boy Who Lived can rise above adversity. I decided to wait, to watch what would happen. Do you know what I saw?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord paused again, and Harry swallowed as he watched his fists clench impossibly tighter. The tendons on the backs of his hands stood out, and his thumb knuckles turned white.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>It appears that life has become too much for the beloved hero,</span></em>” hissed Voldemort derisively.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s eyes shot up to the man above him, and he didn’t think about it, he didn’t pause for a second longer before he launched himself full-force at the snakelike, noseless face of the tyrant before him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He swung at Voldemort twice and the man sidestepped him both times. Harry grew in his fury. He threw more blows, and put all his power into each one, in case a strike landed. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You want to see suffering?” Harry yelled, and his voice almost broke. Voldemort made no move to actively protect himself, just dodged again as Harry chased after him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I’ll take you to hell with me!” snarled Harry, and his voice tore from him with such violence it rattled the flesh of his throat. Voldemort just chuckled, and seemed to know exactly where to move so Harry could do him no harm.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>At his wits’ end, Harry dove at the taller man, and missed, but his knees cracked hard into the floor, and Harry gasped sharply as the shockwave of pain immobilized him. Tears kept flowing, and he just crumpled forward on all fours, and slammed his palm into the floor, over and over, until he couldn’t feel the hurt anymore. There was heat in his hand, and his wrist hurt.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry just leaned forward on his knees, and collapsed into his forearms, his physical frustration exhausted. He felt the self-hatred flood forward, and gather him up in its steely clutch.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There was silence that swept across the tower. Harry tried to pretend he was alone.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You always know how to be so unerringly dramatic,” tsked Voldemort. Harry’s eyes, which had been closed in his self-pity and loathing, flew open against his arms. He felt so angry.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I hate you,” he mumbled, low and deep. It felt like he was making a promise to the man who made every nightmarish horror in his life come true.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Do speak up, Harry, it is good manners,” intoned Voldemort, in a bored voice. Harry could tell, though, that he was anything but disinterested in how his Horcrux was feeling.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I. Hate. You.” With each word, Harry forced himself to push himself up to standing.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort chose that moment though, as Harry was making his dramatic stand against him, to sweep forward—and his movements were no less fluid without his cloak on—to grasp Harry around the shoulders, and crush him into an embrace of sorts.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was like being smothered by a python. Voldemort’s warm hardness was pressing into his side, just above his left hip, and when it twitched, Harry couldn’t help but have the same reaction.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry scrabbled against him, but the Dark Lord was strong, and wrapped his arms ever tighter around Harry’s thin frame, until his struggles amounted to little more than expending vast amounts of effort into worming slightly.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He tried to suck in a breath, but the arms tightened around his ribs so hard Harry was sure he would snap, or his head would pop off.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“You—really—agh—need to—let go,” managed Harry through strained breaths, but he stopped his movements which had proven to only make his situation worse.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>In response, though Voldemort seemed disinclined to break Harry’s ribs, he just whispered back, his chuckle ghosting along the inside of Harry’s ear, “Oh, Harry...I think you may have forgotten who exactly is in charge.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>With that he released Harry, and stepped swiftly away to the other side of the platform. Harry was too busy catching his breath and rubbing at his ribs to notice that Voldemort had set out a blanket using his cloak and Harry’s clothes.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Should you find yourself so inclined, Potter, do join me over here.” At Harry’s grimace, he smirked, and reiterated in no uncertain terms. “Do not make me force you.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry almost rolled his eyes, but restrained himself.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He felt the bruises that were already formed, and the sore throat that he would carry tomorrow, and he knew he wanted to be used. If this was going to continue to be his life, he wanted his true initiation into it, and for it to be so epically brutal. He wanted to be consumed, so he wouldn’t have to every have his own thoughts again. He wanted this to be so real, the erasure of every other history he knew before, and he didn’t want to be eased into it. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Useless was the faux patience that Voldemort had for his own soul. He needed the raw and angry turbulence Voldemort had for Harry James Potter—the man who thwarted him for years.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Only madness could be acceptable now, with all the craze, and the burn, the heavy breaths, and the power that had been missing. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>That was the only belief Harry could carry with him from now on in this life—that Voldemort could take him apart with violence, and in the following silence, he could put himself back together again.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span><em><span>Give me purpose, </span></em>he screamed with his eyes, as he approached the towering form of Lord Voldemort. His grievous Master, his only ending. The Dark Lord stoically watched him, with his barely-concealed impatience and calculating red-eyed stare, as watchful as ever.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry lay down on the makeshift blanket, and kept his eyes trained on the man above him. He ignored the sticky skin of his near-flaccid dick as it flopped against his thigh. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span><em><span>Give me this violent end, </span></em>he whispered in his head, though he felt the intensity of his thoughts as he stared up at the blank, unemotional face above him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The floorboards dug into his spine through the makeshift blanket of their clothes. He sucked in a breath and blew it out. He was ready.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort sank down in front of him and wordlessly took hold of Harry’s member, and the younger wizard shuddered as the cool hands ghosted along the spongy tip of the head and down the underside. The pads of his fingers were soft, and they deftly stroked him into a hardness that he hadn’t thought himself capable of. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There was electricity in the air, in the warm, disillusioned bubble that enclosed the Astronomy Tower. Voldemort moved his hand slowly, and it was nearly sensual, and it was absolutely breaking Harry’s mind, his resolve, everything.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This was what he did. The Dark Lord, his Master, was gentle with his soul. It didn’t matter if it was inside of someone he hated so deeply. He wouldn’t endanger Harry. Knock him around a bit? Sure. This, though...he always took his time.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry hated it. His mind spun, the world tilted and he was on the ride of his life—maybe the last one. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The cold hand continued its ministrations on him. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Tears dripped hot onto his torso, and Voldemort stalled. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was ready for the disgust, the revulsion at the weakness.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He felt the finger tip his chin back, and Harry shuddered with the effort to lock his emotions away again. His chest shook as he began to hyperventilate. The hand released his hardened member, now fully erect despite his emotional turbulence, his disengagement.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Harry.” The whisper crested through the silence like a feather through a windless void. Harry’s eyes unfocused and he continued to shake. He couldn’t meet Voldemort’s eyes, no matter how he angled his chin. Voldemort heaved a deep sigh.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“My soul, do we need to stop?” the Dark Lord murmured, still crouched between Harry’s knees. Harry’s brow furrowed, and his eyes struggled to refocus. He shook his head, a deep frown set into his face. Propped up on his hands behind him, Harry flooded with an anger so deep and sudden he jolted forward, and wrapped his hands around the back of Voldemort’s neck, until their foreheads were pressed hard together.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort growled and threw him off, his strength unparalleled by Harry’s smaller form. Harry smacked back against the floor and faced the rafters of the Astronomy Tower.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I have murdered people for less,” he snarled. For his part, Harry swallowed, but glared balefully at him, between his knees. Their erections were nearly touching. It wasn’t enough.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“If you stop,” snarled Harry, “I swear to god.” He left the threat empty. Voldemort’s lip curled at that, and it was menacing. Harry shook, and his nerves felt frayed.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A finger entered him, and it was rough. Lubricant had been magically added to ease the way, but it wasn’t a gentle prod that filled his hole. Harry immediately tensed and forced himself to breathe out and relax. He still shook and groaned in frustration—he was stressed and psyched up. He wasn’t ready, and yet he had to be. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The finger slowed in its in and out movements as he was stretched. Another finger entered, and the two digits slid harshly into him. He continued to breath as steadily as he could, but it came out raggedly. He hadn’t realized that he had squeezed his eyes closed, but as he forcibly opened them again and saw the intense focus on the face of the Dark Lord, the most powerful living wizard, and he groaned out. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He started to moan in time with the thrusts of the hand that rocked his body, and he eventually called out, “More.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort withdrew his fingers, and settled in position above him. Harry could hardly breath, the air was suffocating, and he threw an arm over his eyes, only to have it pulled off and pinned under one of the hands that supported Voldemort as he lined himself up, and pressed in.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>God,”</span></em> Harry moaned out filthily.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort leaned down, his shoulders in parallel to Harry’s and his forearms triangulated over Harry’s head. He leveraged himself over the former Chosen One, and pressed deeper, hissing as he went.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He was slow, as he always was. Inching in, and pulling out slightly, allowing Harry to adjust to his size. This wasn’t erasure, this was a sequence that Harry could follow. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He <em><span>hated </span></em>it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Please,” Harry whispered, not realizing that it had slipped out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>There was no answer, just a command. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>Turn over</span></em>.” The Parseltongue shattered into him. The dick that had slowly entered him, withdrew completely, and Harry keened with the loss. It took him a second to comply, but Voldemort practically threw him over once he had turned halfway, and he barely caught himself as he was slammed forward onto the floorboards. The wind knocked out of him as a hand splayed over his back, and the pressure was back at his hole, this time more readily accepted.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Pinned beneath the weight of the man above him, Harry grappled at the forearms that appeared on either side of his head, and reveled in the press of Voldemort’s pelvis, cradled along his bum as he sank all the way into him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry moaned out, breathless and guttural, like the mixed pressures squeezed the life out of him. Then, Voldemort began to thrust.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It was intense. Harry’s mind oscillated like a heavy pendulum between blankness and flurries of thought. He grunted and scrabbled his hands along Voldemort’s firm forearms as the Dark wizard pounded away at his hole. The obscene sounds of skin clapping against skin echoed around them, and Harry felt his face burn. He dug his forehead into the clothes beneath him, a thin layer of separation to the hardness of the platform.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>Harry, Harry, Harry,” </span></em>murmured Voldemort into his shoulder, his thin lips slid along the sweat sheened skin. Harry moaned out loudly, as he felt his scar radiate with a beautiful, overwhelming pleasure. One of Voldemort’s hands slipped under his forehead, and pressed up until his neck pliantly arched back. With his throat at this angle, Harry’s jaw involuntarily fell open and a hollow, moaning noise was pounded out with every thrust of Voldemort’s hips into him. They rocked together. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The pleasure in his scar seeped out along his skin, and he felt like he was floating, and all he wanted was more. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This was what had been missing, for all these months. The ability for Voldemort to blow all of his problems away with the simplicity of domination over him. Harry had no idea where that came from, but it became a deep need, that curled in the pit of his stomach. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort slowed, and Harry wanted to slam his fist around into the man’s ribs. Harry was so painfully hard, and so close to coming, but with the slow movements, he felt his possibility of orgasm edge away.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry very nearly released a sob. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and all along his back—he felt Voldemort sit back, and his member slide partly out of him, as Voldemort drew his hand down the slick line of his back.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>That fit, though, didn’t it. Voldemort just took pleasure. He orchestrated everything. He had Harry’s life in his hands, and he prevented his death many times since he discovered what Harry was to him. He had ruined everything, and made Harry want this, <em><span>need </span></em>this. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It wasn’t fair. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>It wasn’t fair that Harry had come here to die and Voldemort had decided otherwise. It wasn’t fair that he capitulated so easily to his Master’s whims. He hated that he was a Death Eater. He hated that he was being fucked in the very spot that Snape had killed Dumbledore.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort moved tortuously slow, as if he were waiting for Harry to completely shatter apart.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry’s dick was in pain, his balls felt knotted, and he needed relief—emotionally, physically, <em><span>anything.</span></em> </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry couldn’t think, his mind totally blanked in that moment, and he couldn’t remember anything—least of all how to stop his tears from falling. They descended into the black material beneath him, absorbed like the night had done to his tears before. At his shuddering body, Voldemort ceased his movements completely, and Harry could have screamed, but barely held in his sob.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>With his dick still planted in Harry’s ass, he ran a long hand up the sloped line of his spine.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Turn over,” came the gentle order, for a different reason than before. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry knew he couldn’t disobey, but removed himself from Voldemort and reluctantly flipped so he was facing the rafters once more. He didn’t look at Voldemort’s eyes, though he sensed them scanning over him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort tsked, and it was a gentleness that Harry wanted to block out. This wasn’t what he needed the Dark Lord to do for him. He did his job; now it was time for his Master to take responsibility of his Horcrux, his unwilling follower.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“What is the problem, Harry?” asked Voldemort, irritated.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Just keep going,” Harry despondently replied.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I will,” came the barely-veiled growl from between his knees, not that Harry cared to look. “All night, to make up for all the time these foolish emotions of yours have cost me over the last months.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry didn’t answer, and continued to look resolutely at the darkness between the wooden beams. He did, however, hiss at the sudden intrusion of Voldemort’s dick as it was inserted back into his ass. His hand flew automatically to grasp Voldemort’s left bicep, and squeezed the muscle there. Voldemort’s narrowed eyes trailed from the hand on him to the pained face Harry was making.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He pulled Harry’s hand off of him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Need I remind you again that I have killed subordinates for even thinking of touching me.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Thought I was a <em><span>special</span></em> <em><span>case</span></em>,” Harry said as sardonically as possible.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort’s eyes flashed and he leaned in to crunch Harry into a half-fold.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“S-sorry,” he grunted out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Finish,” Voldemort demanded, and Harry’s eyes widened at the order, unsure if he meant for him to come right there. It was an impossible request since he wasn’t even close anymore... Then he realized.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Sorry, my Lord,” he mumbled.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“It is about time that I ceased overlooking your lack of respect, and started addressing it.” Voldemort swatted at Harry’s ass, and he yelped at the sudden hit. “If I need to re-instill fear in you, so be it.” Harry made a face at that.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“What has happened to cause you to be so reckless this evening?” Voldemort raised a hairless brow. Harry sucked in a breath, and thought about holding it until he turned blue. He spoke instead, because if there was one person on this earth who could adjust his current shitty life, it would be the person who had made it all come to pass—and who was incidentally seated inside of him right now.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I don’t know what will happen,” he whispered, more quietly than he had expected. There was a pause, and Harry could physically feel Voldemort’s impatience rise.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Continue,” he said with a threatening edge. Harry swallowed.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I don’t know, okay?” Harry felt stupid, and splayed out, and this moment was too awkward and honest. Voldemort was just supposed to be shredding him, not attempting to find the root cause of his dysfunction. Then it just spilled out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I can’t keep keep going on raids, I can’t. I don’t want to live in the ranks, being forced to do exactly what I fought against. I can’t stand getting punished over and over again for not following whims of sadists.” He ignored the biggest sadist on planet earth before him, since that was Harry’s inescapable reality to be tethered to the Dark Lord forever, even without the Mark.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He had been marked long before then. Harry’s scar had not stopped its pleasurable cascade over his body; the contact with Voldemort seemed to keep it strong. He closed his eyes, as if he could shut out the world and the intense gaze that was being leveled at him, so he could focus on what was being asked of him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I can’t keep doing this, but I know exactly what will happen if I keep being forced.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort was quiet for a long moment, and in the stillness Harry peered through his lashes at the man who kneeled above him. He looked lost in thought, staring furiously at a point at the beam behind Harry’s head.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I cannot lock you away in an ivory tower, Harry. Your potential is too great,” he finally said, grudgingly. “You have to choose something.” He lowered his red eyes back down to Harry.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>In the quiet that stretched between them, Harry decided if this was to be his last night, he may as well give it all he had.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I don’t mind doing this,” he whispered up at Voldemort, and the bright gaze widened almost imperceptibly. “I could just—” started Harry, as he reached his hands up slowly to fold behind the hairless head and slide his body towards the man’s length. Voldemort allowed the contact this time, and stared at Harry as though he hadn’t looked at him properly this entire time.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort switched his position readily, and Harry gasped as he hung onto the Dark Lord’s neck. He shifted him back onto his back, and slipped inside of Harry. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>You should mind,</span></em>” hissed Voldemort, and Harry’s breath hitched as the Parseltongue amplified the pleasure that emanated from his scar.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The pace was punishing, and Harry’s moans were frequent. Voldemort was close, and he breathed heavily, with Harry meeting every thrust.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“<em><span>Do not push me</span></em>,” came the warning, but Harry could only hold on tight as he barked out a genuine laugh, the first in so very long it startled him. Of course he would push him. He was Harry freaking Potter.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This was what they had. The confusion that bubbled over from Harry’s frazzled nerves, the hatred that roiled and mixed in with their stomach acid and lust. It was a combination of the bond that tethered them together, and knowledge that there was no better permanence than a willful destiny that trapped them together, again and again.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>They grappled, and the tension was almost palpable as Voldemort sank into Harry once more, both of his hands fisted into the top of Harry’s hair. Harry was scrabbling against his wide chest, either pushing him away or pulling him closer, and he felt so dizzy, both wanting the burn and wanting it to stop, but when Voldemort pulled out, his body followed. He jerked his hips, and tried to maintain the friction. His head smacked woodenly against the floor once, and Harry saw stars, and felt blood enter his nose. An intense jerk wracked through his body, as Voldemort struck the bundle of nerves inside of him. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>One of Voldemort’s hands moved to cushion the back of his head, as the dick inside of him repeatedly angled toward the same spot—and Harry began to pull away in earnest. He couldn’t take any more. He really couldn’t, but the thrusts kept coming at the same heated pace, and he was driven more and more against the floor. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Despite the layer of clothes under his back, his shoulders now scraped against the planks, and he grunted with the pain in his shoulders and the pain in his ass. Harry threw his head back against the floor, but it was shielded now by the palm that cradled the back of his skull. Voldemort wrangled him in place as he continued to hit his prostate, and a sharp pull on his hair accompanied every one of his movements.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Then, Voldemort’s thrusts became more punishing, less accurate, and his breaths were in bursts that told of the effort he was putting into keeping physical dominance over Harry Potter. He pulled out of Harry in the same moment that Harry came. He arched his back up, and moaned incredibly. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was glad that he had been able to keep his eyes open in the moment, as Voldemort came in the next second. Eyes of fury and hellfire, the Dark Lord stared into Harry’s soul, he was sure of it. The slitted pupils were blown out in a crazed manner. Voldemort stared deep into Harry’s eyes as he jerked his dick three times, the tip spitting globs of white over Harry’s chest and stomach. Then he dipped the semi-hard cock back into Harry’s open hole and gently, slowly thrust in and out of the heat. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry, spent and satisfied, eased his head to the floor again and shut his eyes. In the euphoric afterglow of being so thoroughly fucked, he lay boneless. The slow, continuous motions of the Dark Lord above him exacerbated the soreness of his tender skin. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>When Voldemort stopped his movements, he opened his eyes and released a shuddery breath. One of Voldemort’s long hands had taken hold of Harry’s softening dick, and it twitched from the sensitivity. He gasped as the cool fingers coasted along his shrinking shaft, until the pleasurable pulses slowly abated. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort ran his thumb along the slit and collected some spare wetness left over. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry was beginning to breathe evenly again, when the thumb was offered to him. Meeting Voldemort’s eyes, he opened his mouth and poked his tongue out a little. He gently drew the digit in between his teeth, and grazed the pad with a nip. Then he kissed the tip of the thumb, and Voldemort withdrew. Harry saw that the man was looking at him from between his knees with the most peculiar expression of being caught in a thought, or taken off-guard. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He snaked his way up the length of Harry’s body, and Harry spread his knees without a thought, and gave his Master room to maneuver. He observed Harry below him for a moment—terribly debauched, and flushed, and covered in both of their come—and he leaned in. This time, it was not a chaste kiss—nor was it a battle, or a show of dominance and submission. It was just deep and breathy. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Tongues shadowed each other as they twisted and slid wetly against the soft textures of their tastebuds. The two wizards shared their breaths like they had become one body. In so many ways, they had.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>When they parted again, Harry needed a few moments to orient himself. He stared at the cross-beams above Voldemort, who still hovered above him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I would think that an intimate connection such as that would warrant staying alive for, to have again and again,” said Voldemort, his voice serious, despite the playful intonation.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry scoffed, and regained himself as he scooted back to gather up his pants from under him. Voldemort allowed him the space to sit up.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I guess we will see,” Harry said, noncommittal. He shook out one of his socks to roll it onto his foot.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>A hand on his chest stalled his movements. Harry looked at the Dark Lord questioningly.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“This bond, I believe, will be enough to keep you with me,” stated Voldemort threateningly. Harry rolled his eyes and pushed the hand off of him, before he looked down himself. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Could you—” Harry gestured at his torso. Voldemort raised a hairless brow but the next moment, Harry’s front was substance-free.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Thanks,” mumbled Harry, extracting his shirt from under Voldemort’s leg. As he threw it on, his eyes drifted to the Dark Mark on his arm. He absently ran a hand down the tattoo, and his skin erupted in goosebumps as his scar emitted another wave of pleasure.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry thought he heard a sharp intake of breath from Voldemort, but when he turned the Dark Lord seemed to just be watching Harry, as unaffected and stoic as he usually was. Harry withdrew his hand from the Mark.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>As he sorted his pants out from the pile, he asked, “How did you find me, anyway?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort’s pale brow pulled in at that, but he answered readily enough. The Dark Lord was usually somewhat charitable with his patience, after sex.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I can easily track you because of the closeness we had already. Soul-sharing, among its other rarities, has Magical privileges.” Voldemort continued to study him, and Harry only now realized that it was with an air of incredulity that Harry hadn’t worked that out for himself. Well, he had had an inkling, but it was nice to have a clear confirmation.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>The Dark Lord would later amend his statement to say that Harry was hysterical, and those hysterics had affected him and his work, so much so that he had had to travel across England, and walk the Hogwarts grounds, until he had tracked Harry’s annoyingly loud and dismal thoughts to the Astronomy Tower. He would say that Harry was absolutely a menace to him, and he would leave Harry quite bemused.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>This was why he had asked the Dark Lord now, instead of later—the charitable patience made all the difference.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>When Harry stood, Voldemort had already shrugged into his trademark black cloak and was waiting for him to meet him at the staircase that would take them down through the castle. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry had a sudden pang of loss rush through him. This place, where much more should have ended than already had, seemed to grip him in an icy claw. He shivered.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort stepped soundlessly over the floorboards to Harry’s side.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“For the record, Harry,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and steered him towards the stairs, “I, of course, meant what I said before. Lord Voldemort does not make a habit of breaking his promises. I would not be keeping you close if you were worthless. If you must be cut from raids completely and shuttled into the political sphere to constitute what you consider to be real, compromising change, then I shall, of course, recommend you.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Harry stopped walking down the steps, and Voldemort turned to look back at him, a question in his slitted eyes. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I don’t understand,” said Harry. “I thought you liked me being miserable.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Voldemort smirked in genuine amusement, which took Harry off-guard.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>He took a step up toward Harry, and looked like he was collecting himself. “I think you will find that I have a want for you to be alive at a Ministry job, rather than dead on the Hogwarts lawn.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Wow,” Harry said drily. “You’re quite tactful with delicate subjects, aren’t you?” He brushed past the man, and continued down the stairs.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“I know. I am a merciful and benevolent Lord.” With that, he clapped Harry on the shoulder, and a tingle ran down Harry’s arm at the contact. Voldemort smiled his best political smile, which on his snakelike face would probably be the stuff of nightmares to anyone not accustomed to him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>They strode through the torch-lit corridors, side-by-side, and a thrum of Magical energy shifted between them. They encountered no one; it was quite late, after all. Dawn was mere hours away.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>As they reached Hogsmeade in their unexpected, companionable silence, Harry had the thought that maybe Voldemort was right. That, even in this unideal world that continued to turn, there was always a hope in the future that he could hang onto. There were ways he could make the world more manageable for those who suffered. He was at the very heart of everything, and therefore had all the possibility from within the ranks of the Dark—but he couldn’t speak for any of those things if he was gone.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>Maybe, in all of his poisonous existence, that was the antidote. If that was the case, he had to take it. He had to.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>As he took Voldemort’s arm so they could Apparate away, a small smile tipped his lips, and satisfaction that was not his own blossomed in his mind.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. &lt;3<br/>If the mood strikes you, drop a thought in the comments, just for the thrill of it all.<br/>Otherwise, keep having a great day, and be good out there, while you're going around this very ungentle, fluid world.<br/>As always, much love to you.</p>
<p>Additionally, check out the song:  Monster Lead Me Home by Sara Hartman. I am positive that this story is not what she had in mind. Okay, bye xx.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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